Anonymous
by Courtanie
Summary: When corpses begin becoming unearthed and seemingly feasted on in South Park, the kids band together to discover just what it is that's causing it. Unfortunately for them, they find that they've bitten off more than they can chew. M for intense gore.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: Prologue for a horror story I'm trying out based on an old Japanese mythological creature**_

_**It's a SP story, but you get random Mary Sue's for this quick look into it xD**_

_**Enjoy!**_

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><p>Crisp sunlight peeked in through the sparse trees outlying the path for a young man holding the hand of his young daughter. Their fingers linked together delicately, swinging their arms into a rhythm that the girl laid out in soft hums as they trekked. The man looked down at his child and couldn't help but smile softly at her. Were it not for their destination, he knew that this moment would be nothing short of the peak of perfection for them. A clear, sunny day. Warm enough for the typically brisk temperature of their hometown. A lovely stroll in the park where the problems of the monotonous world they lived in just seemed to fade away into obscurity. But as his eyes drifted over to the bouquet of lillies clutched in the opposite hand of his child, fingers wrapped around the blue plastic as though they were melded together, his heart couldn't help but sink.<p>

This wasn't just an ordinary day for the two of them, they both knew that well enough. A beautiful Sunday between the two of them that held somewhat of a grinding halt on their emotions: Mother's Day. A day they'd both taken into a routine through the last seven years of the young girl's life. However this year, the routine had come to a stop. No more surprise roses from the office, no more candlelit dinners at home and watching her mother's favorite movie. No this year, this one would be different.

"Daddy, when will we get there?" the girl asked quietly, looking down at their feet melded in sync with one another.

"Right over that hill, Clara," he nodded up a ways. "Mommy's right up there."

She smiled and shook his hand a bit. The man smiled, knowing her anxiety and releasing her tiny palm. She hesitated but a moment for him to stop her before darting away towards the green hill shining in the light. He took a heavy breath and increased his pace, knowing in the back of his mind that letting a seven year old run off on her own wasn't the safest of measures, even taking into consideration where they were headed.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking up at the blue sky overhead and shaking his head. It'd only been a week. Just one week. It already felt like a lifetime. He was still a mess, hadn't been back to the office as of yet. He didn't plan to for at least another week of Hell. Clara had to be tended to, she was still confused, she still woke up same as every morning, running to their -_his_- room, crying 'Mommy, Daddy! Time for work!'

Reality was hard to get through the mind of such a young child.

He watched her as she stumbled up the hill and couldn't help but feel a ghost of a smile passing over his lips. Hair just like hers. Long, brown, bouncy and full. Her laughter was just the same, a mess of a quiet cackle and an innocent, even spread of a blush crossing over her pale cheeks whenever the humor hit her hard enough. A part of him found it hard to look at her, but he couldn't help it in the end. That essence of what he wished he could still see was shining in their daughter's bright blue-gold eyes. It was worth the pang of his heart.

He heard a shrill scream coming from the girl and all thoughts melted away, his body instantly kicking into adrenaline as he broke into a sprint towards her.

"Clara?" he shouted up towards her, heart racing in panic, all senses honed in on getting to her and finding her safe as he prayed she was.

"Daddy!" she appeared back at the top of the hill, trying to run towards him before stumbling and falling over, lilly petals breaking free of the stem on her impact, smearing across the grass in vibrant palates of ivory. He managed to clamber up the slope towards her, diving down and scooping her up into his arms, trying to contain her convulsive sobs.

"Sweetie, Sweetie, what happened?" he asked, petting his fingers through her long hair as she clung onto his jacket in pure hysteria.

"M-mommy..." she hiccuped, sniffling and rubbing tear-stained eyes across the soft fabric of his coat.

"What about Mommy?" he asked, his heart beginning to deflate in his chest all over again.

"_I saw her_," she whispered.

"Saw he-" he paused, blinking. "What do you mean?"

She whimpered, holding her hand back towards the hill and pointing, her entire body quaking with fear.

He looked from the spot back to her and kissed her head softly. "I'll go check it out, okay? I'll see what's there."

"IT'S MOMMY!" she shrieked.

"Okay, okay," he patted her head again, setting her down on the ground in front of him. "I'll go see, you stay here and try to calm down, Clara. Okay?"

"Daddy it's her," she insisted, shaking his arm.

He got to his feet and narrowed his eyes. It wasn't unusual, he'd been told, for kids to see what they wanted to see most. But she would be happy in such a case, yes? Not on the brink of hysteria. He made a soft 'hm' noise, starting up the hill towards the peak. This was a private place. Few other people ever went up this way, they knew well enough what it was and stayed clear of it out of respect. He could hear Clara behind him, humming frantically as she did when she was scared. Though it wasn't the freshest memory on his mind, the last time she'd hummed so loud was the last time he'd checked under her bed for monsters when she was but four. It took more than a glimpse of something to get her so riled anymore.

He made it to the peak of the hill and his jaw dropped, his feet stumbling back clumsily before he fell over onto the grass. The taste of bile rose in his throat, his breath coming out in mere whispers of forced air. His heart thudded uncomfortably, fighting with his stomach for control of his body's state. His eyes scanned over the small area in front of him, landing on the spot they'd came after in the first place. Dirt from the spot was flung in every direction, the clumsy handiwork of someone hellbent on getting where they wanted to.

His gaze drifted into hazy disbelief as he saw what lied over the stone of the place, a dismembered arm hanging lazily over the marker as though it were nothing but casual. A slender hand hung limp from the limb, one finger missing, a narrow bone jutting from the knuckle out into the open air.

"Oh my god," he muttered, managing to work himself back onto his feet.

His eyes continued to graze over the horrific scene, his chest tightening in hurt, in terror, in grotesque distaste. His fingers blindly maneuvered into his jacket pocket, grabbing out his cell phone and hurriedly typing out 911.

He waited as he continued to observe the area, his ears vaguely picking up the sound of Clara humming to the greatest octave her young lungs could belt out. His dark blue eyes landed on something in particular that made him nearly lurch over with the great pains in his gullet that followed.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

His voice faltered, his eyes tracing over the delicate features of the piece in front of him. His mouth gaped like a carp thrown fresh out of the pond. His body took over into violent tremors as he found himself staring into a bright cyan eye of whom he was never supposed to see again in the flesh.

_"911, is anyone there?_"

His stare grazed over past the open, vacant eye hole and to the missing chunk of jawline leaving her once beautiful face a broken jigsaw puzzle. Torn locks of chestnut hair lied in tatters surrounding her lonely head, deep claw impressions vibrantly standing against chalky skin.

The sound of humming and constant calls from the other line of the phone echoed in his now blanked mind. A complete wave of shock and disgust richocheting through his numbed body. His breathing caught in his chest, forcing him to choke out his words, the only thing circulating his mind over and over again like a terribly crafted horror movie rerun: "_My wife._"

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><p><strong><em>AN: Yeah so we've established I suck at beginning stories._**

_**And writing in general but who's keeping track?**_

_**Lemme know whatcha think so far! Thanks for R&Ring! :3**_


	2. Development

_**Omg hi. So it's been forever, I know I know. I'm trying so hard to get everything going again, I swear. Agh X_X**_

_**Enjoy!**_

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><p>'<em>Grave robbers in South Park?' <em>The TV echoed throughout the suburban home, the mere phrasing of the gruesome story seeming to hit all the inhabitants at once. All four seated at the table raised their heads up from their dinner plates in interest, peering through the kitchen over into the living room, their mouths still focused on chewing their gefilte fish.

'_Not likely,' _the announcer continued, his back turned to a graveyard and seemingly -and unusually- interested in the story. _"I'm standing here at a private graveyard owned by one of the families here in South Park. What should have been a moment of mourning and remembering was turned to shock and horror as the survivors of the deceased did not in-fact come across the usually calm peace they've come to expect, but instead a horrendous scene of blood and body parts. Now, for matters of respect and decency, we cannot show you the images captured upon sighting, but we are here with Mark Zubrin, a man coming to visit his wife's grave with their young daughter just yesterday. Mark?"_

"How can they film in a graveyard?!" the woman at the table shrieked. "It's not right!"

"There, there, Sheila," her husband sighed tiredly. He shook his head, "They have to set the scene."

"Sounds to me like they needed to be in a haunted house instead," the youngest piqued, taking another bite of broccoli.

"Ike, Dude, not cool," his older brother reprimanded, honed in on the screen as a tired looking man of dark hair and unshaven skin became focused in the center of the television.

"_Well, we were coming to give my wife, Laura, flowers for Mother's day," _he said weakly.

"Oh that's sweet," Sheila stated. "I hope you and your brother do that for me, Kyle."

"SHH!" the men all hushed her.

"_And...and my daughter ran up first but then she came back down the hill screaming. I thought maybe it was something like, she'd hallucinated seeing her mother's ghost or something and was just heading up there to check and reassure her that it was nothing. But...but I got up there and...oh god she was everywhere. They tore up the grave and...parts of her look like they'd been...bitten. Eaten fully. It was horrifying. And I just wish I'd seen it first and spared my daughter the trauma."_

"_Where is your daughter now?"_

"_With my mother. Laura's parents and myself are staying at my home waiting for results on what could have done that to her."_

"_We've heard that the latest theory is some kind of animal?"_

"_That's what we're guessing at this point..."_

"_Thank you Mr. Zubrin we'll keep in touch. More on this story is developing-"_

"Oh my god that's awful!" Sheila shrieked.

"Holy shit, Dude," Kyle blinked in disbelief.

"Kyle, language," Gerald scolded him before taking another bite. "Sounds to me like it's a coyote."

"But that doesn't make sense," Kyle countered. "Coyotes and other animals can't pry open a coffin. And think of all the dirt they have to move! I don't think that they'd be able to dig that up so quickly without anyone noticing them. That looked like they were standing on the graveyard hill outside of Starks. It's too public."

"What if...now hear me out," Ike started, "What if it _was _grave robbers. But! They didn't do the mauling. They just dug her up and took her stuff and then didn't clean up their handiwork. Then an animal got into the coffin and did the rest?"

"That would make more sense I guess," Kyle nodded, slurping his milk thoughtfully. "But what kind of shitty grave robber doesn't even try to cover up his prints. I mean-"

"That's enough, boys!" their mother lectured. "We will not be having this kind of discussion at the dinner table, am I clear? And I certainly do not want to hear one more peep about this again! It's very upsetting. Can you even imagine being that man right now? He has to think about not only what happened to his wife, but people like us sitting around and discussing it? It's not appropriate."

"Pretty sure that he could have said no to the reporters if he didn't want a spectacle being made out of it," Gerald input.

"He probably just did it so if anyone can maybe figure it out, they would come forward," Kyle said, shrugging lightly. "But as for it being at the dinner table, no worries, Ma because I'm done," he stood and grabbed his plate, heading for the sink to wash it off.

"I don't want it discussed around me, period!"

"Yes, Ma'am," he and Ike sounded together in their usual monotonous agreement. It was easier than arguing with the beast.

"Good," she nodded approvingly. "Now, Kyle, what are you going to do? Homework I hope?"

"It's May, school just ended, Ma," he said flatly. "I'm going over to Stan's house."

"Are you spending the night?" She questioned. "If you are, be sure to pack your toothbrush and clean underwear! I know your undergarments and I know that you stole a pair of Stanley's last time you spent the night!"

"Stole. Right. Stan probably willingly gave them to him," Ike snickered.

Kyle came up and slapped the back of his head. "Nice try, Butthole but I spilled Coke on myself and my bag last time and came home wearing his jeans and shirt, too."

"Aw, your boyfriend gives you everything. Has he given you his heart to go with them?"

"Yeah and his girlfriend couldn't be happier for us," he rolled his eyes, grabbing his jacket from the table. "No, Ma, I'll be back home tonight."

"All right, be careful out there!" she shouted after him as he walked towards the front door. "I don't care what kind of crazy things are out there but they ARE out there!"

"I'm nineteen, Ma, I think I can handle this myself!" he yelled back before slamming the door closed behind him. He let out a frustrated sigh. He loved his family but goddamn did he want to strangle them, too. He pulled out his phone and shot a quick message to Stan, '_On my way, dude'._

He fished his car keys out of his jacket and unlocked his Prius. He hated this car. His mother insisted he got something "Safe". Safe for his stature at school as being a total fucking nerd, maybe.

He started up his car, glancing down at his phone as it buzzed in response, '_Kay. Careful tho, bro. Dad's flippin' out. not angry just crazy."_

Kyle smirked. Crazy just about summed up Randy in a nuthouseshell. He backed his car out of the driveway and headed down the short distance to Stan's house. He glanced around as he drove, looking towards the setting sun and taking a deep breath. He hated how his mother insisted on keeping the news on during dinner in order for them to be "educated" but then shot down every discussion they tried to have about something. Given it'd been going on since he was about six, so he really shouldn't have been annoyed about it still.

He passed Token and Clyde walking together on the sidewalk and waved to them. They waved back and Clyde made faces at him before he flipped them off and turned the corner onto Stan's street. He drove up to the house and raised his brow. All the lights, including the streetlight, were completely shut off. He parked on the curb and got out, wondering what the hell they were up to this time.

He walked up, about to knock on the door before the door opened and a hand grabbed him, yanking him inside. His instincts shot up and he punched his assailant right in the face with an aggravated yell.

"OUCH! KYLE KYLE IT'S JUST ME!"

"...Mr. Marsh?"

"Dammit, Randy I told you not to do that," Sharon flicked on a lantern and glared at her husband. "Remember last time when he broke your arm? I told you!"

"Still sorry about that, Mr. Marsh," Kyle winced.

Randy patted his shoulder. "It's okay son, just shows you're stronger than that fat kid Cartman says." Kyle snorted before Randy yelled "STAN! STAN GET DOWN HERE!"

"Yeah yeah I'm coming!" his voice echoed from upstairs. Footsteps were heard before a loud crash and tumbling followed by an appropriate "OH GOD FUCKING DAMMIT MY LEG!"

"Stanley, are you okay?" Sharon bolted up and over with her lantern, holding it over a crumpled Stan at the foot of the steps.

"Yeah I'm fine," he grunted, standing up and staring Kyle in the face. "I hate my life."

"What the hell's going on? Did you guys blow a fuse again or something?"

"No, Dad's being extra "pre-cautious", he rolled his eyes, throwing the confused redhead a lantern.

"Over..."

"DID YOU NOT SEE THE NEWS?" Randy grabbed his arms and shook him. "Kyle, Kyle it's horrible. These...creatures. They're feasting on human flesh!"

"Oh Jesus Randy don't star-"

"Sharon! Our LIVES could be in danger! Do you not see what's happening?! We could be in the middle of a zombie epidemic! Kyle, no one's bitten you lately, have they?"

"Only my lover, Fabio," he rolled his eyes.

Randy bent down and stared him straight in the eyes, the lighting on his face making him seem more maniacal than usual. "Does Fabio sometimes tell you his fantasies on feasting on human flesh and eating your brains?"

"Oh my fucking god, Dad!" Stan walked over and pulled him off of Kyle. "He was being sarcastic! ...Right?" he looked at him questionably.

Kyle raised his brow. "Dude."

"Right, right," he nodded. "Dad, it's not a zombie apocalypse. Crazy shit is just happening pure usual. Now can we _please_ turn the lights on?"

"That's just what the zombies WANT you to do!"

"Unless they decide that your 'abandoned' house is the perfect place to set up headquarters," Kyle joked.

Randy froze. "Oh my GOD he's right."

"Dad, are you seri-"

"Lights on, everyone, NOW!" he shouted, running around and flipping every switch on the wall and heading upstairs to do the same. They all turned off their lanterns and watched after him in awe.

"How can someone be that stupid?" Sharon shook her head.

"You married him," Stan shrugged.

"I'm sorry you have to see this, Kyle. You know Randy can be...eccentric."

"Batshit crazy," Stan rubbed his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

"No worries. I'm more than used to it. Better than being home with my mother," Kyle said lightheartedly. In all honesty, he loved Randy's shenanigans. Sure they were fucking crazy sometimes but he always had good intentions. That's what really mattered.

"Okay the lights are on," Randy called down, hurrying down the steps. "Now, each of you take a weapon." He handed Stan and Kyle both baseball bats.

"Oh but Randy, where's my weapon?" Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Use the vacuum," he told her. "You're an expert in its ways."

"Oh for pete's sake-"

"Let's all sit and enjoy our last moments together." he said solemnly, heading for his lazy chair.

Kyle and Stan looked at each other and shrugged, Kyle following the grumbling boy with an amused smirk. It was always fun at the Marsh house. They all sat down and Kyle looked around a bit. "Where's Shelly?"

"Lucky bitch is out," Stan sighed. "She escaped before the news came on."

"My poor Shelly!" Randy cried out, raising his hands in frustration. "I told her to stay home but noooo, she had to go and party with her friends! They could all be zombie meat by now!"

"Randy," Sharon shook her head. "It's just graverobbers and animals. I think everyone in this room is safe."

"But do you know that for a _fact, _Sharon? DO YOU?!" He turned to look at the boys, "Kyle, you're a smart boy. We're all doomed, aren't we? You can tell us, we're all men here."

"Hey!"

"Except Sharon."

Kyle looked between the three of them and cleared his throat, "My family and I came to the conclusion it was just grave robbers, Mr. Marsh. Nothing to get too scared over. It sucks that someone's going out and doing that, but it's nothing too severe."

"Poor bastards must be manipulating your mind," Randy stroked his chin.

"Oh for god's sake!" Stan stood up and ran his fingers through his black hair in frustration. "Dad, knock it off! There's no zombies, Shelly's fine, we're fine, everything's fine! God why do you have to take everything to such extremes?"

"Stanley you know that I'm a rational man," Randy said with a straight face.

"No you're not! I-UGH! Come on Kyle, there's no reasoning with him," he jerked his head towards the door. "Let's go see what fatass is up to."

"Stan? Staannnn, don't go!" Randy stood up and outstretched his hand. "I may have already lost my daughter, I'm not losing my son, too!"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Dad, calm your tits. Just lock up and drink like usual and when you wake up you'll be fine."

"NO I WON'T MY CHILDREN WILL BE SLAVES TO THE BRAIN FEASTING DEAD ROAMING THE STREETS!"

"Bye, Dad," Stan grasped Kyle's arm and yanked him towards the door quickly.

"Uh, bye, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh!" Kyle waved. "See you soon!"

"NO BECAUSE YOU'RE GOING TO DIE OUT THE-" Stan slammed the door shut behind them and let out a frustrated yell.

"Oh my fucking God WHY was I the spawn of the Darwin Award personification?!"

"Your dad is just...different," Kyle chuckled. "You know he means well."

"Bullshit," he stated, starting down the sidewalk with Kyle in tow. "That man couldn't recognize reason if it bended him over and fucked him up the ass."

"Well it's harder to recognize someone from behind," Kyle said jokingly. Stan turned and glared down at him. "What?"

"Stop taking his side."

"Oh please you know I'm not taking his side. He's just over-worried is all. He's like my mother. Just, you know, more fun."

"It's not fun when you have to live with that day in and day out."

"True," he mused. "Would you rather he start a war?"

"No..."

"Well there you go I win craziest fucking parent of the century," he stuck his tongue out.

Stan laughed and nodded, "I guess at least Dad only keeps it with us and his bar buddies for the most part. But since summer started I'm stuck with him all day since he's working from home."

"He just look at rocks in your backyard or something?"

"Pretty much. Or Googles porn. I tell you that laptop of his, I've had to fix that thing from the viruses he gets like, four times a month."

"That's talent," Kyle nodded. "Usually our computers only need a clean sweep once every six months. 'Cept mine."

"That's because you won't go on a porn site until you've certified it's validity. It takes you five times as long to jerk off because you're busy running your scanner through the damn pages."

"Hey, safe sex, man."

Stan and he burst out laughing as they neared Cartman's house, walking up the sidewalk and nudging each other playfully. Stan knocked on the door and Kyle stared for a moment.

"Why do we come here? We hate him."

"But his mom lets us get away with anything," he pointed out.

"True dat."

Stan looked at him amusedly. "Did you really say 'true dat'?"

"...no."

"Aw you're trying to get street smart so a certain blonde will find more interest in you other than your ass," he pinched his cheek.

"OH SHUT THE FU-" he paused as the door opened to Liane Cartman. "Hello, Mrs. Cartman," he quickly plastered a sweet smile on, "Cartman here?"

"Of course! He and your little friend Kenny are up in his room!" she stepped aside and let them in, grabbing a plate on the stand beside them. "Hope you like chocolate chip!"

They grabbed one eagerly, "Sure do, thanks!" Stan mumbled with a mouthful of cookie.

"Yeah, thanks!" Kyle echoed as they headed up the stairs towards Cartman's room.

"His mom may still be a whore but goddamn can she bake," Stan said quietly.

"Right? My mom doesn't even have that much of a job and she can't make sweets to save her life. Doesn't help I can't have many very often."

"Poor little diabetic," Stan teased. Kyle glared as they came upon the door and Stan put his fingers to his lips before he swung it open. "ALL RIGHT, HANDS IN THE AIR!" he screamed as they busted in.

Kenny and Cartman shrieked, throwing a blanket on the ground and jumping to their feet. They took a moment and surveyed their visitors and glared. Kenny only sneered a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Oh god you got us. Good on ya!" he cackled.

"Fucking pussy-ass homos!" Cartman yelled as they shut the door. They ripped the blanket off the ground and all four of them plopped down to an array of beer and a joint smoldering in an ashtray.

"Well thanks for having a party without us," Stan scoffed.

"Hey, Kyle doesn't smoke and you two are attached at the hip so we figured you wouldn't if we invited you," Ken snorted.

Kyle rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the beer bottle, twisting the top off and leaning back against Cartman's bed taking a swig. "Gee, thanks for announcing how lame I am."

"And I wouldn't have you any other way," he winked. Stan glanced over at Kyle amusedly as his face tinged red.

"So," he broke the focus away from the bashful Jew, swiping the joint from the tray and holding it delicately in his fingers. "What've you two been up to? Well, aside from this," he waved it around, taking a small puff and holding it in his mouth for a bit. They all watched as he slowly released a stream of smoke into the air around them. His face turned and his tongue flew out of his mouth, "Dude," he gagged. "What the fuck is this?"

"Not what I paid for, that's what," Cartman snapped. "Fucking Craig gave me fake shit!"

"Yeah, we've went through four of those," Kenny nodded to Stan's hand as it put out the paper. "Ain't feeling nothin'."

"Aw, such a hard life," Kyle feigned a pity pout.

Kenny chuckled, scooting back beside him and looping his arm around him. Kyle gulped, looking down at his beer and taking another long drink. "Hey, it's not like we're peer pressuring ya or nothin', lay off," he said, swiping his own bottle and joining the redhead.

"Ugh, this town is so boring," Cartman rolled his eyes and placed his face into his plump palms. "There isn't anything to do but drink."

"Like my father before me!" Stan raised a drink in a faux toast.

"And mine as well!" Ken joined him. They clanked their bottles together and Kenny rustled Kyle's shoulders. "Lucky Kyle doesn't have any parents with drug abuse problems. Hell even Liane's got her crack."

"'Ay!" Cartman spat, slapping him over the head.

He rolled with the slap, laughing hysterically at the larger boy's angered face. "Oh, calm your man-tits fatboy, I don't give a flying shit what she does. Besides," he tilted his bottle and pointed towards him, "It ain't like I'm lyin'."

Cartman's mouth opened before clamping angrily, his face embarrassedly scanning over the blue carpet of his floor.

"Dude, it ain't fatass' fault," Kyle rolled his eyes and stared up at the blonde. "You know how sensitive he gets over that."

"Call me sensitive...one more time, Jew," Cartman met his green eyes darkly. "Make those your last goddamn words."

"Oh, oh no!" Kyle put his hand to his chest and fluttered his cinnamon lashes mockingly. "Oh my oh dear!" his voice fell into a faux southern belle drawl. "Now I am so very terrified! Oh you gave me the jitters!" He glanced back up at Kenny who was shaking with held-in laughter. "Oh sir, this gentleman says he's gonna get me! Whatever shall I do?"

"Well I'll be!" he gave him the same over-exaggerated accent. "Now how could you do that to such a lady?" Kenny looked over at Cartman who just shook his head slowly, unimpressed with their mocking. "Well I'll say that's just downright un-gentleman like of you! What say you, Stanley? Shall we throw out the brute?"

The three of them glanced over at the raven-haired boy who blinked slowly. "Uh...I can't do a southern accent." The room went silent before all four of them burst into laughter, Stan and Cartman falling to their sides and the two against the bed leaning their heads into their free hands and snorting hysterically.

They finally all calmed down after a few moments and looked at each other amusedly. "You know," Kenny finally mustered out, "It's been a hell of a long time since the four of us actually hung out together."

"Not that long," Stan's face looked up quizzically. He paused, "Wait...no you're right," he nodded.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "It's always me and Fatty or you and Ky or any combination of two or three, but not all of us since, like, before school ended."

"Well not any combination," Kyle replied dryly. "Like I'd hang out with Cartman by myself."

"Why not?" Cartman scoffed. "Can't resist my hawt body?" he gestured over himself and Kyle gagged a bit.

"You fucking wish, you goddamn pervert."

"HEY," Kenny pouted. "**I **am the pervert!"

Kyle patted his knee, "my apologies." He glanced over at Cartman and shrugged, "okay, you goddamn sick diseased fat piece of shit."

"That's more like it."

Cartman threw an empty bottle at Kyle's stomach, "Fucking Jew," he muttered. Kyle oofed as the glass hit him, but knowing full and well that he deserved it.

"So what's our little siamese twin been up to?" Ken gestured between Stan and Kyle.

Stan shrugged, "Both of us needed out of our houses, so we came here. We knew that Liane wasn't going to be on freak-out mode like our parents."

"Oh?" he quirked his brow.

"What's up their asses now?" Cartman asked, sounding positively bored with the small pleasantries.

"Didn't you two see the news?" Kyle looked between the two of them.

"Pft, I don't have a TV," Ken scoffed.

"And I'm not an eighty year old hermit," Cartman added.

"Okay, for one thing, the news is for everyone, you fucking dumbass, okay? For anoth-"

"Kyle, Kyle," Stan shook his head. "Come on, Man. Don't start."

Kyle shot the boy a glare before muttering under his breath and leaning back further, becoming increasingly aware of Kenny's arm still wrapped around him. Well _that _wasn't helping matters any...

"Anyway," Stan cleared his throat. "Some people dug up some people in the graveyard and apparently some animals got to 'em or something."

"Dude, sick," Ken made a small disgusted noise.

"Right?"

"What, were they all mangled and shit?" Cartman asked, his curiosity piquing again.

"That's what they said," Kyle shrugged. "Apparently limbs and shit were all over the graveyard."

"Sweet."

"No, not sweet, you sick fuck!" the redhead looked at him in disgust. "Those are someone's family. Would you like it if your mom died and you learned that happened to her?"

"Hey, Mr. Kitty got dug up by a coyote and I found him in the yard," he shrugged. "When you're dead, you're dead. Not like they can feel it."

"Well, still, it's the principle of the-"

"Yeah, yeah," he waved his hand disinterestedly. "Look, keep your High and Mighty panties on. So some shit went down, that's not too unusual for this place."

Stan nodded, "Yeah, that's what I said. But my dad is convinced it was zombies."

Kenny snorted loudly, "Oh I bet he does. Your dad is fucking nuts." He laughed again as Stan nodded his head shamefully.

They all perked as a buzzing sound entered the room. Kyle looked down at his jeans, lifting his hips and grabbing his phone out of his pocket. He groaned. "It's home, probably Ma wondering if I'm in a cult." The other three snickered as he flicked it on to answer. "Yeah?"

"_Dude," _Ike's voice rang in his ears. Kyle's chest tightened. He sounded panicked.

"What's wrong, Ike?" he looked at the others cluelessly.

"_Get on the news website and watch the last report they did. Dude, dude it's fucking weird."_

"We literally just watched it at dinner, Ike," he said bored, his demeanor relaxing.

"_No, Man, they did an update already."_

"Well? What happened?"

"_You have to see this for yourself. I can't talk about it, Mom's here and she's freaking out."_

His brow quirked. "Dude, is it that bad?"

"_I'm serious, fucking watch it right now." _The line went dead and Kyle pulled the phone from his ear, staring at it questionably. "Huh."

"Ky, is everything okay?" Stan asked worriedly.

Kyle got to his feet, using Kenny's arm for leverage before walking over to Cartman's desk and moving his mouse around to awaken his computer screen.

"Uh, you gonna ask for fucking permission first, Jew?" Cartman growled as the three of them stood and walked behind him.

They watched as he pulled up the browser, quickly typing in the news station's URL. "Ike said there was some kind of weird development with the whole thing."

They leaned in, all of them scanning over the website's front page. Kenny pointed to a video on the side of the screen. "There?" he asked. Kyle hovered over it, a text box popping up reading _'Unusual Bite Marks found on Graveyard Victims'._

"Are they still victims if they're dead?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "I have no idea," he muttered, clicking the link. The three of them watched as the box slowly buffered to life, playing some fucking ad about yogurt.

"That stuff tastes like dogshit," Cartman rolled his eyes.

Kyle snickered. "I don't know which joke to go with. Your choices are 'only you would know what dogshit tastes like' or 'like you would eat anything healthy'. Take your pick."

Cartman slapped his shoulder as the video finally came to life, and they watched as it faded in on a blonde reporter staring at them stoically.

'_A recent development has come about in the report of corpses being desecrated earlier today. Apparently, what was thought to be an animal attack, may in fact have been something much more sinister. Here's Jonathan at the scene.'_

The screen cut to a man standing in the darkened graveyard, his weight shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Damn, something's up his ass," Cartman muttered.

"Shh!" the others spat, not glancing away from the screen.

'_Well, Sarah, it seems that the bite marks found on the victims may not have been from an animal at all. It's been determined that although the mutilation was done with sharp, razor-like teeth, the bite marks have in fact been determined to have been from a human mouth.'_

The four of them looked at the screen in horror, each of them feeling a disgusting creep of vile working from their stomachs. The woman popped back onto the screen, _'And how is it that they came to the conclusion that it was human?'_

'_Well, according to a forensic dentist called onto the scene, the bite radius is definitely not that of an animal.' _He walked over to a small table set up with an array of different false teeth displayed. He picked up one and continued, _'as you can see,' _he held up the underside for the camera, _'A dog or coyote, which we believed to be the most likely culprit considering the size of the marks, have an elongated jaw. The bite marks found on the victims,' _he placed down the dog teeth and picked up a set of human, '_coincide with the radius of an adult human. Our forensic dentist determined that, considering the bend of the jawline and the size of the marks, must have been made by an adult human. It's yet to be determined just how the puncture wounds were made, however, as they don't seem to fit into the standards of the typical wide teeth that we possess. These teeth were designed for penetration, while normal human teeth are designed merely for grinding, so the cause here is yet to be determined, thought it's raising more questions than it's answering.'_

'_Thank you, Jonathan,' _she nodded, her face filling the screen once again. _'Police are still working on exactly who or what they need to be tracking down. We'll keep you updated as more information is released.' _The video faded to black and the replay button popped on the screen.

The boys stood there, blinking, slowly standing from their slouched positions. Kyle turned and they stood in a circle with each other, each one as unsure of what to say as the next.

"That had to just be sensationalism...right?" Kyle winced.

"Fuck I hope so," Kenny blinked, shaking his head and staring down at the floor. "That's...that's fucking messed up."

"Jesus maybe my dad was right," Stan said blankly.

"I don't think it's zombies, Stan," Cartman rolled his eyes. "Besides, zombie teeth are, you know, normal teeth. The only thing fucked up with a zombie is the brain," he pointed to his head.

"That we know of," Stan shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe zombies are fucking real and we've been portraying them wrong all along."

"You really think that someone rises from the dead and their teeth get sharper?" Kenny raised his eyebrow.

"Well do you know?" he gestured his hands out helplessly. "I mean, do any of us actually fucking know?" Kenny opened his mouth but shut it promptly. His expertise in the supernatural would be a little too odd for them to hear, considering they had no idea about his constant dying. He knew more than any of them though, the dead don't just rise from the ground. He was more than aware of how the body was redone, and the soul was shot back into it when someone came back to life.

That was a subject for another time, though.

"Well maybe the dentist was wrong," Cartman said, his hands raking through his mouse-brown hair. "Maybe it was like a really big cat or something."

"No, they said that the jawline doesn't match up. Cats have the longer faces, too, ya know," Stan said pointedly. "Hell you should know that better than anyone."

"I...I guess," he went quiet, crossing his arms.

"Ky?" Kenny asked softly, the redhead shot his head up from his deep concentration, his eyes meeting the gentle blues of the blonde. "You're the smart one here, what do you think?"

He shifted as the three of them waited expectantly. "Honestly? I think we just need to wait," he shrugged. "Maybe Cartman's right, maybe the dentist did see the wrong results. Maybe it was some homeless crack addict who thought they were roasting chickens on the ground or something, I don't fucking know. I think we just need to wait for the story to give us more details first. Jumping to conclusions isn't going to help anyone."

They all nodded and Stan let out a heavy sigh. "My dad is going to never shut up about this until they figure it out."

The four of them let out soft laughter, but it felt forced. The tragedy and reality of what was happening just outside of the house hung in the air, stale and thick like the muggy summer night. Almost simultaneously, they all turned their heads, looking outside of Cartman's window into the darkened night sky, moonlight shining through the trees and beaming down into their eyes. No one said it, but each one was thinking loud and clear, _'Fuck, I hope they're wrong.'_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Augh I almost abandoned this story. But I found the first half of this chapter and realized...I was way too proud of the Randy scene to just let it go. Fuck I want that portion of the story on my tombstone. If I have pride in nothing else that comes from this story, I will just be so happy because you know you can TOTALLY hear Randy saying every goddamn word I wrote.**_

_**-not so humble brag- god I'm awful**_

_**All right, we're gonna try to get this one up and running again. I really like horror stories, but I've never actually done one except for Disturbia...but that was all Azngirllh's plot lolz. So, this is a trial for us all.**_

_**Thanks for R&Ring!**_


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